


Stoke the Flames

by JellyDishes, witchGender



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Historical, Dark Academia trope, M/M, Multi, Shifting POV character from chapter to chapter, Slow Burn, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:55:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26268358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JellyDishes/pseuds/JellyDishes, https://archiveofourown.org/users/witchGender/pseuds/witchGender
Summary: The year is 1836, and Gerard Keay meets the enigmatic, if frustrating figure of Jonah Magnus while touring the public spectacle of the Paris Morgue. What he certainly wasn't expecting was a job offer, even less that he would find himself accepting it. And that's only the beginning of his troubles...
Relationships: Gerard Keay/Michael Shelley, Gerard Keay/Michael Shelley/Tim Stoker, Gerard Keay/Tim Stoker, Michael Shelley/Tim Stoker
Comments: 6
Kudos: 11





	Stoke the Flames

On Île de la Cité, in the shadow of the looming Notre-Dame de Paris, lay La Morgue. The morgue was built thirty-two years prior in 1804, and was freely available to the public. Had in fact been constructed with that purpose in mind, under the assumption that it would help identify the dead. That was close enough to Gerry’s aim here today, anyway. 

His orange shaved ice dripped a counterpoint to that which came from behind the glass, where chilled water fell, drop by drop, down onto the splayed corpses of Paris. There was probably something pithy to say about how there was nothing separating his reality from the dead except a sheet of glass and force of habit, but who had the time to waste being philosophical when there was work to be done. 

He started to move along the line of corpses to more closely examine the body of an elderly man who looked to have been fished out of the river, when he became aware that he was being examined, instead. Gerry stopped almost in mid-stride, and glanced over his shoulder at a tall man who wore brocade and silk and a very self-satisfied expression. “What do you want?” He asked. “You may have noticed that I'm busy.”

The man’s mouth quirked in an easy smile that would have looked sly coming from anyone else, but on him, it was charming. “Indeed. They call it the only free theatre in Paris, you know.”

“What about you, taking in the sights like the rest of us mere mortals?” Gerry waved the hand not occupied with his melted dessert out at their silent audience. 

"Actually, I came here looking for someone rather more lively than our unfortunate friends here. You, in fact. Jonah Magnus,” he added, holding out a hand. Gerry stared at but did not take the offered hand, and Magnus lowered it with another one of those smiles. “I was rather hoping-”

“Whatever you have to say, I'm not interested,” Gerry interrupted impatiently. 

“-that you would be willing to help me prevent a few of the more exciting actors upon this stage from making their appearance,” Jonah said. Gerry made a skeptical, almost rude noise, and Jonah cocked an eyebrow in what had to be a practiced gesture. “Something troubling you about that idea? I would have thought-“

“I find quite a bit troubling about it. A mysterious stranger swanning in and offering me a position when I have no resources and no letter of recommendation to back what skills I do have? You must take me for a fool, Mr. Magnus.”

“In point of fact, I take you for a man in possession of those very skills who is, shall we say, not in a position where he must keep a crowd of prospective employers at bay with his walking stick.”

Gerry stiffened and had to fight the urge to glance down at his own suit, which was old and rather threadbare compared to Jonah’s. Gerry had gotten it secondhand as a gift from his mother for the trip to Paris, and as loath as he had been to wear it due to other concerns, he was now regretting it for how very obvious it made his station in life. 

Instead, he turned his gaze back to that of the elderly man beyond the glass. For whatever reason, it was hard to focus on his original aim in coming here, not with Jonah Magnus staring him down. He sighed, then again when Magnus kept right on talking. 

“I represent an organization I founded some eighteen years ago, The Magnus Institute.”

“Subtle.”

“It isn’t perhaps so well known outside of certain circles,” Jonah carried on without reacting other than to prop his walking stick into his elbow and begin to light a pipe with a smile, “but we are quite respected nonetheless. I daresay it may help you make great strides in gaining some respect of your own. Or are you no longer interested in that?” Jonah asked, and he didn’t even have the good grace to be looking at him through those lowered lashes as he began to puff on his pipe to bring it to life. What a tit. 

Gerry lifted his chin, which had Jonah Magnus raising his eyebrows. “You're going to have to try harder to manipulate me. I have much more important things to be dealing with right now.”

“You are referring to your investigation of our dear departed friend, here?” 

Gerry took it back. Jonah Magnus’ smile had only ever been charming in the extremely short term, before he opened his mouth. He had a way of digging into you with his eyes that made Gerry wish to be doing anything else than standing before him, such as scrubbing a privy with his face. “Yes.”

“Ah, so you are not, in fact, referring to your attempts to increase your social standing? You've made quite a name for yourself as of late, mister Keay.” He added, off of Gerry’s expression, “Unless you had some other moniker you prefer?”

“Gerard. If you must call me anything.” Gerry refrained from crossing his arms, though he deeply wanted to. Something about it felt like protecting a vulnerability, and like hell would he give this man any more ammunition to use against him. He paused for the space of an aggravated sigh. “You mentioned… preventing more deaths,” he said begrudgingly. 

“So I did!” Jonah Magnus said with a cheerful wink that just made Gerry’s mouth twist. “Was there something unclear about that? I thought you of all people would understand the layers of subterfuge there.”

Gerry scrubbed a hand down his face. “I understood you. I simply have doubts that you mean what you say. Everyone has a motive.”

“My motive is to study and to understand, and perhaps along the way bring peace to those who need it,” was the answer he got, which wasn't exactly helpful. 

“That's a very long-winded way of avoiding the question,” he said curtly. Jonah Magnus’ eyes crinkled, and Gerry bristled. He didn't trust people like that, much less a stranger who was a rich old man flaunting his power. It put his back up, and once his back was up he tended to do very inadvisable things. Some would call those things downright stupid, himself being the first among them. “Let me make it easier for you,” Gerry snapped, what patience he'd been able to scrounge up snapping. “Answer me, or get your bloody nose out of my face.”

A few paces away a well-to-do woman gasped, her hand barely obscuring a delighted grin, as the man beside her scowled and muttered about propriety and “filth coming from the mouths of the lowest classes.” Gerry ignored them. He was good at it, he’d had a lot of practice. 

...Or maybe it was just that he had a convenient target to aim his barbed tongue at. Gerry proceeded to ignore the stark reminder of all of the many, many times he had attempted to ignore the wealthy with even less success, and lifted his chin at Magnus. “Well?” He demanded. “Going to wait until I rot, too?”

“Hardly,” Magnus told him. “But please do me the favor of remembering that I make this offer as a courtesy. You may take or leave it at your leisure, but trust me when I say that it won't be made again.”

Gerry felt his expression curdle. It took everything he had not to go with his gut and tell Magnus that he could take his offer and bugger right off. He held back because… as much as he hated to admit as much even to himself, he wasn't exactly drowning in offers of employment, honest or otherwise. This work with the old man was a charity case, one among many. As often as he groused about disliking helping strays, he somehow found himself doing so more often than not. 

“Oh, one last thing,” Magnus added as he turned away, “you may find the position a bit livelier than most in academia.”

“What, are there fistfights?” He couldn’t fail to ask despite himself. “I thought that was politics.”

“Clearly, you haven’t spent much time around academics. Perhaps that will change in future.” And that, as Jonah Magnus raised his own walking stick in the air in seeming salute as he walked away, seemed to be that. 

**Author's Note:**

> The next chapter will be shifting the POV character from Gerry to Tim, the third chapter from Tim to Michael, and then back to Gerry for the fourth chapter, etc etc. I chose to separate the story into shorter chapters in order to help make this returning part of the narrative clearer upon first reading.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed reading this far. Comments of any sort are appreciated, even something as simple as a heart emoji can make the world of difference!


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